100chances: Love of Gray
by Sariii
Summary: HaibaraAi ShihoMiyano and EdogawaConan KudoShinichi. LJ community challenge 100 underscore chances. 100 chapters. Flames welcome. RR
1. At Twilight

**Author's Note:**

**To fans:** I lied. Again. Sorry. New category, though. I haven't switched fandoms, but I'm totally stuck for Hush, and I've been bitten by a new plotbunny. Look out for a new story, TT fic, "Eurydice".

**To new readers: **Hi. I'm excited. 100 of these stuff, can you believe it? I hope I can do justice to what a bunch of DC writers have already done. My takes on Ai (Miyano) and Conan (Shinichi). Unrelated prompts, unless otherwise noted.

**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan and all its related material belong to Gosho Aoyama. Borrowed without permission. Themes belong to the LJ community, 100chances. Plots are mine, cannot be borrowed without permission.

**Theme One: At Twilight**

**.:x:.**

On the first day of her birth, it was raining, at night. She had taken great care in washing herself, noticing everything about her new shell, as it were, tugging at her hair and running her hands over her face as she washed it. Getting used to this pre-pubescent body would take a bit more time, she thought, even as she glanced at her flat chest.

The clothes she changed into were a bit tight on her. Professor—Agasa, was it?—said they were Shinichi Kudo's. She let her mind linger on that name, but not for long; now was not the time. He left it at home because it was too small for him, but she would just have to bear it until tomorrow, when she could buy her own set of clothes. And what was her name?

"I don't have one," she said curtly.

And thus, Ai Haibara was born. In secret, of course, hidden from the sun by the cover of darkness, all evidence of the birth erased by the pounding rain.

**.:x:.**

The next day, a long day, after shopping, eating, and forging (and presenting those) documents, Ai went up to the roof and introduced herself to the setting sun.

"I am Haibara Ai, for sorrow," she said crisply, watching the sun. "Nice to meet you."

She stood there for a few more minutes, watching until the corona was just about to sink beneath the horizon. It was so childish…but…

"If you see Shiho Miyano again, or Sherry, even, please send them a message for me: I'll make peace with you one day, Sherry, and I'll find you again one day, Miyano. _Gomen nasai_…and…_arigato_."

And then it was twilight.

Ai (for sorrow) closed her eyes, tired from staring too long. She could hear the cars go by, honking every few seconds. She opened her eyes.

"Another day, another life." She breathed in slowly, exhaling softly. "_Sayonara_."

**.:x:.**

"Must you do that?"

She didn't reply. Something warm was by her arm—his arm, to be exact—but she paid him no attention.

It was almost the end of another day.

"Sunrises are much more cheerful. Why are you watching the sunset on a day like this?"

He was right. The Black Organization was gone at last. And yet she was still back here.

"Haibara Ai promised a long time ago," she said to him in a whisper, "I'm fulfilling it for her."

"And what was that?"

She didn't reply for a while, and when she did, it sounded so far away…

"I'm making peace with Sherry, and finding someone I lost."

His voice, so near her ear, brought her back. "Shiho Miyano, I presume?"

She raised her head a bit to meet his softly twinkling eyes, and she had to smile, holding out a hand for him to shake. "You must be Kudo Shinichi. Ai told me about you."

He glances at her outstretched hand, and smirks, before pulling her in towards him. Miyano has never been fully _enveloped_ like this before, and she lets out a small cry in surprise. The soft material of his sweater is warm, and she suddenly feels cold on this December evening, despite a red jacket over her cream-colored one.

"Conan told me about you," Shinichi says. Miyano responds lightly, "Edogawa? That arrogant little brat?" Shinichi lightly knocks his forehead with hers.

"Shiho Miyano, have you seen a sunrise before?" he asks, and she shakes her head no, causing her hair rub against his face; he still hasn't let go.

"I'll show you tomorrow," he says.

"Kudo?" she asks in return. "Ohayo."

He chuckles, and she hears it vibrate from his chest. "Ohayo."

It was twilight.

**.:x:.**

**.:x:.**

**Note: I broke a cardinal grammar rule and switched tenses without warning. I like it that way,though, so…Review! My first Detective Conan fiction.**

**Edit 071907: Typo has been fixed. Thanks, Rally! **

** _gomen nasai - I'm sorry.  
arigato - Thank you.  
sayonara - Goodbye.  
ohayo - Good morning.  
_**


	2. In Dreary Times

**Author's Note:** You like me, you really like me! Squee. I seem to be on an angst fest; sorry. Happiness will come next chapter, I think. This also is Version Two of Theme Two; the original featured Ran's feelings on Shinichi Conan/Ai (the conversation) in a different scene. I didn't know if I was allowed to have Conan/Ran and Conan/Ai at the same time, so…heh. Polygamy, sorta.

And I don't know _what_ this is. It was angsty at first, and then it turned flangsty/general? Conan/Ai is HARD. I did manage to get them in the same bed, though. rawr

**On another note**, SN1987A! And Astarael00! And Dagron! WHEE! How many freaking fans do you all _have?_ Thanks for reviewing! I'm honored, especially when I didn't receive any email confirmation from LJ. It was in the junk mail. Criticize away; did I forget to mention flames welcome?

I felt like I wanted the continuity. Then I saw the messed-up, no-break format on FF. very bad.

**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan and all its related material belong to Gosho Aoyama. Borrowed without permission. Themes belong to the LJ community, 100chances. Plots are mine, cannot be borrowed without permission.

**Theme Two: In Dreary Times**

**.:x:.**

Edogawa comes to dinner that night without warning; completely unexpected, as he had mentioned Ran was making something nice for him—lemon pie, his favorite. The Professor had left for Osaka earlier that day. Ai had planned on skipping dinner; food doesn't matter much when one has Antidote in the works. Hell.

So when the bell rings once and the door opens soon after, Ai knows it's him. He has a tired, carefully-neutral expression on his face. She doesn't say a word, but heats up a bowl of soup and places it in front of him, waiting. Conan stirs it with the spoon, absentmindedly, before pushing it away and sighing. Everything tastes bad when one's depressed, Ai knows, but she doesn't care. Professor made it, and it wasn't as though Edogawa was going to eat. Misery loves company, they say; so Ai makes a cup of tea for herself and sits with him. She has plenty to offer.

When he finally chooses to speak, thirty minutes and eighteen seconds have passed, not that she's counting. "Ran's moving on," he says quietly, and to anyone else, it's said as if he's lamenting the loss of another fangirl, as if it wasn't personal, as if it was a blow to his humongous-ly arrogant ego. A rather tempting taunt comes to mind…but she won't say it.

"Sonoko came an hour early for dinner. They were looking at photo albums," he said in a clipped monotone, and all Ai can do is sit and listen—

**.:x:.**

Ran turns the page, and her expression changes.

"Ran-neechan, what's wrong?" Conan asks, because there's something very wrong when she does that. It's name is Kudo Shinichi.

She smiles softly, looking at the top left of the album. "You and Ai-chan…remind me of Shinichi and me—"

**.:x:.**

"She said _what_?" Ai-chan asks. His tale is vivid in her mind, a mix of reality and dream, mostly because it's real and it's impossible. Kudo, for his part, doesn't even blush. He's shocked too, she thinks. He hands her two photos, and that's that—silence.

The one on the left is older. The real Kudo—about five years old, perhaps—tries to balance a soccer ball on his shoe and is miserably failing. Little Ran is busy with encouragement. Maybe if you lift your leg up like this, then…She grabs his foot and tugs slightly. It's enough to put him off balance, though, and both of them fall. Ran's mother is smiling in the background, as is Shinichi's. Mouri Kogoro's voice calls the two children and both turn to the camera. The camera snaps the picture, and when it develops, Mouri discovers to his shock that both boy and girl are blushing. Eri snatches it away before he can rip the darn thing...

Ai remembers the second one, taken by the big field near the playground. Conan trips her and they both fall on the grassy field. "Wrong game, Edogawa. It's foot-ball, not football," she says, as the Detective Boys run over to them, sides of war temporarily forgotten. "Sorry," he says, childishly (of course), obviously not so. Ran comes up to scold him, but Conan is so…smug and cheerful, so immature, that she can't help but smile. "I demand a yellow card," Ai is saying flippantly, and Conan's grin widens. "Oi, oi, there's no need to be that serious," he says casually. Neither Ai nor Conan stands up, opting to enjoy the autumn-like breeze of a very nice spring day. They look just like a picture, Ran thinks, or a movie still, or a painting. Pretty, this mysterious, shared secret. She peers through the viewfinder; the result is sweet and poignant, but as she finds an empty place in her album, Ran can only stop and stare…Mysterious, indeed—

There's no resemblance. Ai is smirking, she is smiling. Conan is not tomato-red, Shinichi is as pink as Ran's dress. The styles have change, the hair is different, the pose, the atmosphere…and Ai definitely would not choose the frills and bows on Ran's shoulders. Still…

"So what? She's not moving on. Go call; at the least, she must see Shinichi in Conan. She likes you. I'm going to bed."

Conan gives a grim, "Heh." Not exactly.

**.:x:.**

"You're still waiting for him?" Sonoko exclaims, outraged. "Listen Ran, you can't do this forever. Call him tomorrow night and tell him to come back right now!"

Ran avoids Sonoko, still staring at the pictures side by side. "I can't call tomorrow night…I promised him we would go out for dinner…"

Sonoko sighs, "So the idiot came ba—wait, what?" Sonoko blinks. Conan stares at Ran…he has to tell her before it's late…

"Ran," he says, dropping the honorific, "I—"

She just smiles at him, handing him the pictures, "Here. I think you might want a picture of her." It cuts him off. Ran's trying to hide her feelings, Conan thinks, and plans to bring up the subject after dinner. But a phone rings just before dinner is ready, and it's only then that he notices Ran is blushing—

**.:x:.**

"People have many crushes at the same time," Ai interrupts. "I'm still going to bed."

Even fifteen minutes after she brushes her teeth, Ai still can't sleep, despite her fatigue. She hasn't gone to bed this early in four days (_school_ days, not that it mattered). She hears the dishes click and clank. The bathroom light turns on, the faucet runs…shuts off.

And then the door opens.

"Did you use my toothbrush?" This place was not a foster home, damn it. Leave!

"I always have a spare here. Scoot."

"Sleep in…own …right next door," she mumbles, even as he climbs in the other side of the bed. Both of them make sure that there is considerable distance between them; they turn their backs toward each other. Minutes pass, and Ai turns back to see him already watching her. "Go away," she says softly, her voice high as it wavers from whisper to speech, like the squeak of mice. "You're only supporting her claim. Leave. Please." She knows it's too late. It was that damn photo.

Even in dark, she can still see bright blue against the whites. They fade as he blinks, but soon reappear. "Sorry," Conan says, in that same whisper, and he's genuinely apologetic. "I don't think I can." Ai bites her lip and turns back. She hears him do the same. She breathes in deep, rather aware of the person lying beside her, if a bit far away. So, now…

Hell.

She repeats the day's events over in her head. Edogawa comes to dinner that night without warning; completely unexpected, as he had mentioned Ran was making something nice for him—lemon pie, his favorite. The Professor had left for Osaka earlier that day. Ai had planned on skipping dinner; food doesn't matter much when one has Antidote in the works. Hell. Edogawa comes…lemon pie, his favorite…doesn't matter…Antidote in the works. Edogawa…doesn't matter…

The last thing she remembers is thinking of the damn picture…pretty…this mysterious, shared secret…

When she wakes, she's come to realize that she's rolled inwards towards the center, her head on its side. Something in her chest jumps painfully—he has too.

It happens that when they both wake, at the same time, in the same bed, the first thing they see is each other.


	3. Before Then, but After That

**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan and all its related material belong to Gosho Aoyama. Borrowed without permission. Themes belong to the LJ community, 100chances. Plots are mine, cannot be used without permission.

**Beta:** ENORMOUS amount of thanks to **Astarael00 **/ Rae00 / Rae. Praise!  
But not completely betaed.

**Theme Three: Before Then, but After That**

_**.:x:.**_

"When did you fall in love with me?" she asked innocently.

Shinichi frowned. Thousands of reports to verify and peruse, and his wife chooses to ask that _now_? "I didn't," he said, not bothering to look up, "you fell in love with me first."

"Did I?" she wondered in that same innocent voice, but he knew it wouldn't last for long. Shinichi seemed trained to look beyond all her acts. "When was that?" She was purposely distracting him, but he had to admit at times like these, she usually emerged victorious.

"Was it after you came back from that long case?"

Long case? What case would that be?

"Or did you love me even as a child?"

Truthfully, he didn't remember. As his younger self, well, he must've fallen in love with her then, right? Or perhaps she was just a friend then, but his feelings had grown through their trials? And if that was so, it wouldn't be right to say that he fell in love, if he loved her for a long time. Maybe…maybe he had been falling too long to notice. He remembered that day she had bit her lip hard as he swallowed the pill…and always she was there, as he closed his eyes as Conan and opened them as Shinichi…always…

"What about, in that instant?" he said, more to himself than to her.

"Hmm?" She didn't understand, of course.

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the chair. "Let's just say I fell in love with you before the Organization fell, but after I turned into Conan."

He felt a satisfied pause and he smiled.

"Shinichi?" his wife asked, laying a hand on his shoulder. Her tone of voice sounded confused. He turned to look at her. Her eyes were strangely darker than he remembered and her black bangs were too long…Black?

"Ran?"

He woke.

_**.:x:.**_

It was nearly three in the morning, and he had just woken from…a dream? A…disturbing dream. It wasn't a nightmare—it had something to do with Ran, after all, though he couldn't remember what—but it wasn't exactly…pleasant either.

Why was he so disturbed anyway?

He needed a drink. Of water, naturally.

He rubbed his eyes and looked up at the clock on the bedside table: 2:41. Shinichi—Conan, as it were—pulled back the covers of the blanket. He must not have been used to the futon Hakase had provided; it was always hard for him to sleep at someone else's home. The room—not to mention the bed—Shinichi had used in his childhood days when Hakase had to baby-sit him was now occupied by a resident mad scientist bent on…Burberry scents and Prada handbags? Haibara probably had at least ten of them in _his _room. Women.

Groggily trudging out of the living room that served as his makeshift bedroom, he walked up to the kitchen to grab a glass, almost tripping on a set of books that Hakase must have left out accidentally. Placing an ice cube into his cup, he filled it with water and took a long drink. He was groggy, lightheaded, and had had a slight headache, but the water had no effect. Waking up in the middle of the night almost daily was not a good habit, he though to himself.

What had he been dreaming a—?

"Making friends with the wallpaper, Kudo-kun?" a smooth voice asked, and even as he registered Haibara's voice, he was engulfed by a blinding sensation—literally.

He let out a loud protest. "Turn it off, Haibara!"

The girl did nothing in response—hopefully in the same agony as he was feeling—and for a few seconds the light switched stayed on until—

"Better?"

"Not really." His eyes, now used to the light, couldn't see anything anymore.

The refrigerator opened, and the resulting light cast a silver glow around Haibara's face as she took out the pitcher of barley tea and poured herself a glass. She went about her task in a usual, no-nonsense way, and when she finished, her eyes glanced at him from a distance slightly above the glass rim.

"What brings you into my nightly domain, knave?" she asked with a smirk. If any woman truly believed herself to be the queen of the universe, it was Haibara. Conan knew that if any woman could play the part convincingly, it was also Haibara. He was suddenly glad she had decided to scrap the Organization's plans for world domination in favor of creating an antidote to better mankind. The whole idea seemed very possible, but rather unrealistic now.

He let out a dry chuckle, his voice coming out hoarse from lack of sleep. "Your knightly domain?"

She grinned, "Why of cour—," and stopped mid-sentence. She looked over him again. Conan wondered if had grown a second head; maybe that's why this particular one felt like it was being knocked repeatedly by a bowling ball.

"Are you okay, Kudo-kun?"

Was he okay? Conan was about to ask what she meant, but he stopped short as he felt her hand—cool—against his forehead. His face did feel a bit warm, actually…After a moment's pause, Haibara withdrew it.

"Fever," she said, "and cold. Idiot. No wonder you sound nasally. It's still March, and you've been going to bed at one in the morning almost every day now. It's hard enough for an adult body to handle that—you expect a child's to?"

Haibara almost sounded motherly, her concern strangely out of place She poured him a cup of the tea and made him drink it. Afterwards, she roughly manhandled him out of the kitchen, not into the living room, but to her bedroom.

"Fool," she muttered underneath her breath, "why are you up at this hour?"

He probably wasn't meant to hear that, but he answered anyway. "I had a dream about Ran. At least, I think it was about Ran."

He heard Haibara snort behind him, "Figures. I'll have you know that it is way—_way_—too early for them according to your newly rewound biological clock."

He didn't have time to ask Haibara why she was up. His head hurt even more, and he was sleepy, and Haibara just made a complicated jo—"Haibara!"

She made a "hmm" sound in reply, choosing instead to push him onto her bed. Through his increasing dizziness, he saw Haibara smile.

"Making you squirm is fun," she said. Conan frowned, and Haibara grew serious again. She touched his forehead and his cheek.

"You'll be fine," she stood from her place by his side. "I'll sleep in the living room. I'll let Hakase know you can't go to school tomorrow, then. Good night."

For quite some time after she left, Conan lay awake in bed. Eventually, he slowly lifted his hand to touch his cheek—and blushed. His head still hurt and he still felt dizzy. And worse—he had the feeling he was dreaming of Haibara.

She was right. It was way too early for this sort of thing.


	4. The Golden Year

**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan and all its related material belong to Gosho Aoyama. Borrowed without permission. Themes belong to the LJ community, 100_chances. Plots are mine, cannot be used without permission.

**Theme Three: The Golden Year**

_**.:x:.**_

Neither Conan-kun nor Ai-chan is at school that day. Genta-kun and Mitsuko-kun went after school to Hakase's house. Hakase says that both Conan-kun and Ai-chan are sick.

Ayumi doesn't see them two days later. Nor the day after that. Nor the day after that. All three of them go to Ran-neechan's house and then to Hakase's house—both are resting, it's easily contagee…catch-able, no, they can't see Ai-chan.

Genta-kun asks, "But how come you—"

The door shuts quickly before he can finish.

_**.:x:.**_

That night, Ayumi makes get-well cards for her two friends. She puts extra stars on Conan-kun's.

_**.:x:.**_

Nearly a month has past when Ai-chan returns. One class is spent showering her with gift cards that they all made and eating the "Welcome Back, Conan and Ai" cake. Only… Conan is still not back.

"Our dear friend Conan-kun will not be coming back," Sensei announces, after the class has given Ai-chan her set of cards. "He has moved back to his home in America."

No…no…I haven't…given him his card…yet—

Ayumi takes in a deep breath before she starts crying. With her blurry vision, she can barely see Mitsuko-kun stand up and move toward her, his mouth curved downwards in a frown. Genta-kun is also shocked somewhat, and he has torn his gaze from his lap to stare at her.

After she calms down, she looks toward Conan-kun's seat. Ai-chan, looking…strangely incomplete, is staring out the window...

_**.:x:.**_

Ai-chan later explains that Edogawa-kun's brush with death had scared his parents back in America. The safest thing for the little detective was to leave Japan. Ai-chan is always right, Ayumi knows, but she can't understand why he didn't say goodbye.

She has also noticed that Ai-chan, after her recovery, limps slightly as she walks. Sometimes, Jodie-sensei, who barely knows about Haibara Ai, is at Hakase's house after school, drinking tea and chatting about the weather…

Things have quieted down, and although the trio has expanded with more and more junior detectives added to their fold, something has changed. Ayumi thinks that, more than anyone, Ai-chan has changed. But how? Ayumi is not as good a detective as Conan-kun had proved to be, but…It's suspicious. Her friend is different. She never really wanted to play before, but now she refuses outright. When she comes to class, she looks so tired and sick; her days are spent staring out the window, her eyes too bright to be normal. Ai-chan, their friend, is slowly drifting away.

_**.:x:.**_

Suddenly, Ai-chan begins to act like her normal self. She makes jokes once in a while, and again only the adults understand. She eats gracefully. The mysteries that come to the Detective Boys, she solves them faster than the Boys can ever hope to solve them themselves. She reads a book while the teacher isn't looking.

Sometimes, she stares out the window.

"I'm fine," Ai-chan says quietly to her after school, "I'm just a bit tired. That's all."

Ayumi can't get her to respond and prepares to leave, but just before she walks out of the classroom door, she stops.

"Ai-chan, did you like Conan-kun?" Ayumi knows she doesn't have to explain the difference between liking and _liking_ liking. Not to Ai.

"No," Ai-chan says, "no."

Ayumi can't but smile widely, and for the first time in quite a while, Ayumi sees her friend smile in reaction. She laughs. So does the other. Ayumi doesn't know which "she" it is, but somehow it doesn't matter as much.

"How do you feel?"

Ai-chan smiles, looking out the window once more.

"I feel…"

She turns away from the window to give Ayumi the brightest, happiest smile that Ayumi has ever seen from her friend. There are flecks of green in her eyes. Ayumi can't help but think she's pretty.

"I feel…golden."

And then, everything is normal.

For one thing, Kudo Shinichi-niisan has come back. For good.

He had been at the picnic yesterday with Hakase and Ran-neechan in the park. He had just come fresh from the airport, according to Ran-neechan, and had been watching Ayumi pick the flowers next to Ai-chan. Ran-neechan looked extra pretty that day…He's nice.

And despite the fact that Conan-kun left her, everything is right. Ai-chan doesn't make any sense. It sounds right.

"I feel golden, too."

At least, she does, until the next week, when Ai-chan says she's moving away as well.


	5. In the Beginning

**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan and all its related material belong to Gosho Aoyama. Borrowed without permission. Themes belong to the LJ community, 100_chances. Plots are mine, cannot be used without permission.

**Theme Five: In the Beginning**

**Follows Theme Four: The Golden Year**

_**.:x:.**_

It's just a flash of darkness and then it's over. When he opens his eyes, they are heavy and his vision is blurry. Light comes through the window, but it is dim, casting everything in blue shadows. It's that period between sundown and night, and as he moves to push himself up, he feels a chill around his shoulders and down his chest. He hastens to wrap the covers around his body, but even before he does so, he stops. He is cold, sore, and, he just notices, stark naked.

"You're awake," says a smooth, female voice, and as his vision clears, Kudo recognizes Haibara instantly as she steps out of the shadows in the corner of the room. It freaks the hell out if him. Then he is reminded of the fact that he isn't wearing any underwear and that freaks him out just a bit more.

Haibara, who may or may not have seen him jump at the sound of her voice, has pushed up her tiny body up onto the bed and stands there on the edge, regarding him. He stares back just the same, but after a moment, he becomes acutely aware of the scrutiny.

"Uh, could you stop doing that?" he asks—or at least he tries to ask. His vocal chords are hoarse, but more importantly, the resonating sound is low and masculine. It is precisely the voice of one Kudo Shinichi, who disappeared from society more than a year ago. To be sure, Kudo has imagined this exact moment hundreds of times and his reaction has always been an undiluted joy at the thought of returning to his former life, his former prestige, and his former Ran. Now, it scares the shit out of him.

"What happened?" he tries to say, but instead he croaks it. Luckily Haibara seems to understand.

"You don't remember?" she asks, although it is not a question. He shakes his head.

"It's finished," she says. She lets the statement sink in, her body slowly moving down to sit cross-legged down on the mattress as well.

She tells him in a voice as careless as the wind that he had been given the antidote two days before the invasion. Both the drug and the attack had been made through careful research from a computer with direct access to another used by an Organization biochemist too underprivileged and talentless to have earned a Name. His death would not be noticed. Their insider was professional. Hondou Hidemi always was, after all.

Only two drugs were made. One had been given to him as described and the other was to be given to FBI agents—

Here Kudo looks up from his lap to her face in alarm. Haibara smirks and gives him a haughty look. She couldn't be running around shooting Black Organization agents as Sherry, could she? Actually, both of them were confined to a camouflaged van to help the Intelligence for the mission, but it wouldn't do either way to assume adult size.

The other was to be given to FBI agents to be heavily protected, duplicated, and mass-distributed by CIA scientists. A paper copy of Sherry's original work and her subsequent revisions were also attached to the final copy.

There was so much blood. The Boss had been prepared, somewhat. Kir's duplicity was revealed a week prior, and she had been killed—information unknown to the FBI until a week after the Organization's demise. Hidemi had been meticulous and the revelation had only led to her hurried execution, leaving the Organization without a clue as to how much information had been leaked. Still, the Boss had some vague idea of something planned on that day. The Boss assumed it to be another attempt at infiltration, which was true, but thought it at most to be another attempt to plant a mole. Regardless, a small handful of mercenaries had been waiting for them, with a larger group of Black assassins who ambushed them seconds later.

"You and I," Haibara says, "being the type of people we are, couldn't stand to let that happen, could we?" Holding the two other CIA officers in the van at gunpoint and handcuffing them to the car door, they had rushed towards the showdown. The two of them just had to see this through. They had both entered the building—the Boss's highly prosperous company headquarters in Japan—and raced to the rooftop of the skyscraper. Kudo had gone pale, partly from all the energy he was using up, but mostly from the shock of having to sort the innocent civilian from the ruthless killer.

They would often part ways inside the building but somehow would meet up at the exit door to the next floor. Several of the Named were there too—Vodka, Vermouth, Gin (Haibara trails off, murmuring some various alcoholic beverages that he can't quite make out).

She had rushed through the floors with incredible stealth, shooting only when needed. There had been two objectives in mind for her: firstly, to kill her sister's murderer; secondly, to obtain copies of the biochemical division's research and put an indefinite halt to it, if possible. She had entertained the idea of Organization's downfall for the F.B.I.'s sake but privately considered the mission too grand. Regardless, for her, it was little more than suicidal.

It was during this second goal that things had gone wrong. Jodie, who, somewhere along the way, decided to burden herself with guarding the "children", was surprised by Vermouth and Gin.

"I suppose," Haibara remarks loftily, "Vermouth persuaded him to try and see the amusement behind watching prey squirm before they die."

A second and third shot immediately followed the initial pull of the trigger. Haibara had instantly killed Gin and Jodie's bullet left Vermouth with only a few seconds of life. The bullet she had shot—a farewell gift for Sherry—found itself in Kudo's chest.

Jodie, alarmed, had hurried over to the fallen boy when she had been struck down, too. Vodka, as always, had followed his Aniki. The loyal sidekick pulled the trigger twice, but in the chaos, the bullets weren't precise; they tore through her side and leg. The brevity of the entire incident allowed him to escape unharmed.

"Rather unbelievable, isn't it?" she asks, standing up as she finishes. "He vanished after that, but don't worry too much. He'll likely surface in a few years as the Yakuza Boss. Not particularly good news but the best one should expect, considering.

"I don't remember much after that, just that when I woke up I was told I had a concussion and both you and Jodie were in critical condition. Her wound was much more serious, but after taking the antidote, your body was already weak and we couldn't do anything to help you since we weren't sure how your body would react…"

She trails off, looks at the bandage around his chest, and gives a gesture of finality. She's still standing on the corner of the large mattress, and her form towers over him. His body, stiff from weeks of paralysis, refuses to comply with his desire to shake her for her recklessness. In the end, Shinichi can only stare. Haibara, though she must realize this fact, ever so _kindly_ waits a moment for a response. There isn't one, of course, and she takes the opportunity to avoid the things left unsaid.

"Well," she says, sitting down on the mattress, "Mouri will be happy now you're awake. She'll want to ask a million questions later but she's still mortified that she took a bath with you." She slides off.

Shinichi retorts back incoherently, only just processing what Haibara implies. There are still many things he needs to know, but Haibara doesn't pause to see if he's satisfied.

"Welcome back," she says in her light-hearted, airy voice, "Sherlock Holmes of the twenty-first century."

_**.:x:.**_

Ran enlists Sonoko's help to plan a party for his return a week later, and invites all his friends to a picnic at the park. Of course, Sonoko is blissfully ignorant of the circumstances and shoots him dirty glares when Ran is not looking.

Shinichi himself is not too bad an actor, and manages to be normal for once in his life, catching up with Hattori on the latest events, and even playing a game of soccer with Ran against Hattori and Kazuma. He's about to make the winning goal when Kazuma makes a perfect steal—but kicks the ball out of the boundary line. Hattori starts to complain how it's always Kazuma that makes the mistake in anything they do together—but Shinichi doesn't listen. The ball has rolled over a root of a tree, coming to rest by a figure resting under the shade. It's Haibara, obviously, surprisingly still in her child form. He didn't even see her arrive with the others.

She stops reading in order to bring the ball back.

"Here's the ball," she says with the perfectly polite tone of voice every mother would hope her child would have, and with a perfectly child-like glance of curiosity for this Shinichi-person she's never met before.

Ran notices the two of them and comes over. "You can still talk to—"

"Thank you," Shinichi says abruptly, cutting Ran off. "…Ai, was it?"

The little girl nods. "For sorrow," she says.

He nods, too. Then, he turns and walks away, not even stopping when Ran tells him to wait, not even when she apologizes to Ai and runs to catch up with him as well.

_**.:x:.**_

She watches the two of them walk away, and thinks: This is how it should be. She bites into an apple she's pilfered from the picnic lunch—and discovers it to be rather…mushy. She wrinkles her nose in mild distaste.

Hattori sends her a curious glance; she bites the apple and raises one brow. He shudders.

That, too, is how it should be.

She marvels at the fact that he could not see through her, as he has done time and time again. Wasn't it strange that it was all too convenient? That the Boss—on the top floor—would have waited for them to knock on his office door just like that?

The fact is Kudo Shinichi was never meant to be there. Haibara doesn't even know how he found out or why he knew about the van and waited for her. He never asked about the two men tied up in the van, never bothered to explain that they were just children's puzzle toys that could be un-cuffed in fifteen minutes, enough time for them to join the invasion. Even in her surprise, she understood that he needed this certainty as much as she did. Still, he was never meant to be there.

Of course, the bullet had been meant for her. Jodie, Gin, Vermouth, and she had all become entangled in a web. Her gun was pressed against Gin's head, his against Jodie's, hers against Vermouth, and Vermouth's gun pointed to Haibara's small form in a final, perfect stalemate.

She could only stare at that white-haired devil for three seconds with pure hate before Kudo unexpectedly rushed in, not even realizing the situation until Gin pivoted and fired the gun on the defenseless detective instead. It's rather funny how fate works.

Vermouth had reacted quickly, but not in the way anyone expected. Even before Kudo fell, bleeding profusely from his chest wound, she moved with lightening speed and shot; Gin died instantly. Jodie, she supposed, was so ingrained with the need for revenge that she fired automatically, not even registering Vermouth's turncoat kill. It might not have mattered much, not compared to the grander scope of things, but Jodie will probably wonder about Sharon's last ten seconds for the rest of her life.

As for her, she'd kill Vermouth a hundred times over for what she did. Shiho wanted the damn bastard dead. _She _wanted the damn bastard _dead_. Finally she could release all those years of hatred and vengeance—and the moment she tried Vermouth pulled the trigger first. Was she denied the right to hate, too?

So she sits, cursing Gin and the Named—cursing and remembering her frantic sobs for a dying eight-year-old boy who promised to protect her once. And her own little pill she forced down his throat in hopes that it would save him (later the reason for his long coma). And the agents that later rushed in to reports of child hostages only to find a bloodied girl weeping over a wounded young man apparently also experiencing an epileptic seizure. And a soccer ball. And a new face next door.

_**.:x:.**_

It is just a few days after multiple murders have been covered up and she sits cursing Gin and the Named. She has spent seven days without sleep and she has been rewarded with a tiny gift in the palm of her hand. The circle is almost complete.

When they walk home from school, on a day when the Professor is away at a convention, Ayumi cries on the doorstep. There is no one to comfort the poor child and no one to scold the rude foreign girl for slamming the door on her tears. Ai makes sure they leave before she takes her clothes off and swallows a newly made pill she left on her dresser that morning. She drains her glass of water, sets it back, and faints as she feels the sharp pain that sends her body into convulsions. And when she wakes hours later and sees a face she had missed for a long time, she knows the circle is complete. There is even the wet stain of tears under her right eye—and this stain lets her know she had done what no Named One has: Shiho has reversed time.

She is now in a time where there is no little girl who tries to will herself into the shadows, there is no child-prodigy detective who is more than he seems. No, back then there was just a boy, his girlfriend, and a sister who suddenly felt incomplete. Her tears fell like this, too.

So she does what she had not done before: calls Jodie and enters Witness Protection. The car will arrive in less than half an hour. Meanwhile, she sits and calmly thinks of nothing.

She hopes his wound will heal.

_**.:x:.**_

_**betaed by Astarael00**_


	6. Love Before Time

**Author's Note—PLEASE READ:** I've recently destroyed my laptop's hard drive. It's been replaced, but all of the files I had until that point are now gone. Every single chapter of every fic I had not finished or posted is now irretrievable. As a result, don't expect updates for a while. To all my faithful readers, please accept my apologies. To those who were especially waiting for a chapter in a different fandom other than "Detective Conan", I have not forgotten about you. I really was working on everything but.

Fortunately, this copy was en route to my wonderful beta, **sakuramaster. Astarael00 **also betaed the intial stages, but I kindasorta fired her without letting her know…but only because I knew she was busy with more important stuff and more important fictions! It is still not finished, and at this point, I doubt it'll ever truly be finished, but I post anyway, as a sign of my good faith.

Also, why are my drabbles never really drabbles? Am I not aware that this a 100 themes challenge?

**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan and all its related material belong to Gosho Aoyama. Borrowed without permission. The song featured belongs to Disney; the poems belong to the respective authors. Themes belong to the LJ community, 100_chances. Plots are mine, cannot be used without permission.

**Theme Six: Love Before Time**

_**.:x:.**_

Shinichi was nine when he first felt his heart skip a beat.

A week after the Mouri family came to see him play in his last soccer game of the season, the Kudo family dressed in their eveningwear and went to the elementary school gymnasium. Mouri Ran's first piano recital required nothing short of perfection.

She wore a puffy white dress with a matching bow in her hair, and with the spotlight shining down on her, she really did look like an angel. She smiled shyly at the audience. Shinichi remembers shifting in his seat and sitting up straight, if only to get her to notice him in the crowd. It was rather impossible, given the bright stage lights, but she had turned vaguely in his direction, sensing him somehow. Suddenly, he felt as though he had butterflies in his stomach.

The rapid beating of his heart echoed throughout the auditorium, it seemed, though no one else could hear it. Everything else slowed in comparison, and changed, as magically as a kaleidoscope shifts…So when she curtseyed to her audience before heading to the piano, she looked like a girl in a ball gown, and when she lifted her head, she looked like a princess.

And when he heard the first notes, _Someday, my prince will come…_his organs did flip-flops inside his body. And by the time they all went to congratulate her, he was beside himself trying to figure out the best way to present the bouquet his family had bought for her. The adults had probably cooed themselves to death seeing a little boy hold a bouquet nearly half his size. As for him, when his heart stopped after she kissed him on the cheek, he knew he had died and gone to heaven.

Yeah, corny.

He's eight—again—when the other girl next door—sort of, anyway—makes him blush in embarrassment about something-or-other and gives him an inside joke to laugh about in the car. In between organic chemistry tutoring sessions and the latest horror movie, they wallow in their morbid lives and slide off the couch to pop the next batch of popcorn.

"By this time, I'd be dating Ran," he says.

"By this time, I'd be dead," she says. She smiles into the fire.

And when Haibara gets too tired to play hostess she is content to rest her head on the armrest and stare at the flickering firelight; he is content to clean up. All the other lights are off, so it's a bit difficult to move around at first. After he begins, though, the cleaning gets done fast; the house is equipped with various stepstools so he gets the job done fairly quickly.

When Conan comes back, Haibara is curled up in the same position. She doesn't seem to acknowledge his presence, not that she had acknowledged him before. The dim light of the fire casts long shadows that darken her eyes, but the light makes her hair shine around her face. There's something disarming about her still form that reminds him of peace—fleeting, like a brief rest from the day's work or a fairy's spell before midnight.

Conan goes to fetch a blanket for her, but just as he is about to drape it over her, she blinks open an eye, leaving him standing over her awkwardly. It scares him so much that his heart stops a moment; when it passes, his heart seems to be going double-time.

"Umm?"

Haibara looks up at him in a similarly awkward manner. She stares at the blanket like she's never seen one before while he tries to think of something to say. But only a few seconds pass before she sits up to tug gently at the edge.

"Thank you," she murmurs. It is one of the few times when her meaning isn't hidden within a heavy air of sarcasm. Haibara's usual haughty—albeit polite—manner is gone; after all, fatigue never cares for decorum.

It strikes Conan, suddenly, that this girl is different at night, home alone. Are her nights always this way? He never stays long enough to find out, not even today—the clock has just turned nine. The thought gives him an empty feeling, and he rushes to make himself useful. He moves to the side, draping the blanket over her and tucking her in.

Haibara looks up with a raised eyebrow. "I'm older than you."

The absurdity of it causes Conan to flush in embarrassment. "Shut up," he mumbles, folding the edge of the blanket. He nervously chuckles afterwards, but his laughter soon become genuine as he takes one look at her cocooned form within the folds. She stares up with a miffed expression.

"You've got pen marks on your cheek," Conan points out. Haibara instantly ruins his handiwork to go wash it off, leaving him sheepishly smiling at the rumpled bedspread.

When she comes back ten minutes later, it's evident that she hasn't managed to remove everything. She looks dirty with the smudge on her cheek and her disheveled hair clinging to her face. Haibara's tired eyes seem brighter in the dark, and as she walks closer to him, he looks directly at the fire flickering behind her. The bright light shines for an instant like a halo around her before his eyes begin to hurt, forcing him to look away.

His eyes have adjusted to the light by the time she sits down and gathers the blanket around her knees. Conan has to smile at the gesture. Haibara rarely bothers to hide her maturity anyway, so it's always slightly surprising at times when she acts any differently.

It's during these lapses of character when his protective nature comes out. He's accustomed to calling Ran every few weeks, and a few days before each of her exams—and she's always happier the next day.

Haibara had to cry for him to do anything remotely similar…In an instant, the thought disappears as the firelight shines on her and her skin glimmers gold. He stifles a yawn.

He says, "I'll leave now. You really need to sleep, Haibara."

He walks down to the door and decides not to ask about the antidote. He knows she'll finish when she can. But when he turns to say a last goodbye and close the door, Haibara, from her place by the hearth, simply smiles gently in gratitude.

"Good night, Detective."

_**.:x:.**_

As he lies awake in bed, he can't help but feel a bit guilty. There are too many things left unsaid between the two of them, and even more things ignored. Yet, the thought of a brighter future comforts him. Ran always had that effect on everyone.

But he wonders if Haibara stays up late watching the fire—watching memories play out in the flames, or wishing for a fairy tale to wake her.

In the end, after all, there is only one truth.

For once, he doesn't have the heart to reveal it.

_**.:x:.**_

It must have been a better time

When virtue always met its due,  

And "wicked men who dealt in crime"  

Were punished by the fairies, too.

But never more they'll come again  

To give the good what they desire;  

And Cinderellas wait in vain,  

And weep beside the kitchen fire.

Henry Lawson, _Cinderella_

_**.:x:.**_


	7. The Look in Your Eyes

**Disclaimer:** Detective Conan and all its related material belong to Gosho Aoyama. Borrowed without permission. The song featured belongs to Disney; the poems belong to the respective authors. Themes belong to the LJ community, 100_chances. Plots are mine, cannot be used without permission.

**Author's Note**: Nope, not dead yet, although I am a year older (I will accept reviews from you all as belated gifts. At least tell me you read it.) Chose the worst time to update--currently, it is right before finals. Reminded myself that I'll be writing 100 of these. Drabbles should become more drabble-length now. All of these shorts are from now on unbetaed. Critique away!

**Theme Seven: The Look in Your Eyes**

_**.:x:.**_

Edogawa Conan knows Haibara's eyes are a light shade of blue. Frankly, so does everyone who's glanced at her—her foreign features stand out in a sea of homogeneity. He knows that they are, to be specific, icy blue. Even coupled with her strange mannerisms when they first met—obvious indicators that she was not what she seemed—Haibara never even piqued his instinctual curiosity, until she smiled at him, telling him in a proud voice, how she murdered his dear professor.

In an instant, a flash of white lit up her eyes, and as lightening strikes sand, turned them into glass.

And when the glass broke, and her voice broke too, painfully into an unanswered, "Why?", she had looked up at him with eyes as deep and dark as the unknown depths of the sea, of the ephemeral twilight.

He wakes each day, hoping to see them again. After all, white eyes are the eyes of the ghosts he failed to save—eyes that lolled back upon death and remained there, unseeing—who continue to punish him for coming too late. And should Haibara become the next addition to his never-ending torture, he knows he won't be able to bear it.


End file.
